Lynx Canadensis
by GrimM Bbliss
Summary: She has no idea who she is.  What she does know is that she is inexplicably drawn to that stranger who showed up out of nowhere.  Could their shared past bring them together?  Wolverine&OC
1. Chapter 1

**Yes, Now I've moved on to comics/movies/shows to kill. Let me warn you though, I've only seen the movies (and read some of the summaries on the X-Men Wiki), so if you're expecting this to be more towards the comics, go look somewhere else. Other than that, I don't really have anything to say other than that I own nothing but my OC, and I'm making no money off this.**

**Also, you NEED TO REVIEW. **

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><p>"Let me go!" I struggled against my captors. "I don't want to hurt you! But if you don't let me go right now, I will!" They laughed, like they didn't believe me. The one in front, his breath soaked with alcohol, pulled a switchblade out of his pocket.<p>

"Listen, little girl. You're going to do exactly what I say, and I won't use this. But if you don't…" He smiled a greasy, gap-filled grin. "Well, I'll let you use your imagination. Now, are we going to have a problem?" I took a deep breath, absorbing the stench of the men.

"I think we're going to have a problem. See, I wasn't going to get too angry when you started giving me a hard time. I thought, 'Hey, they're drunk, but once I tell them off they'll do the smart thing.' When you grabbed me I thought, "Okay, they're stupid, but when I tell them to back off, they'll do the safe thing and go away.' But now you're threatening me, and I'm pissed. So, yeah, we have a problem."

I extended my six claws (three on each hand) to full length, about nine inches. They bled a little, but it healed quickly. Both the man in front of me and the man behind me jumped. The one behind me started muttering that maybe they should find other girl. I shook my head and clicked my tongue.

"Oh no. That's not going to do. I've taken a personal interest in you two, and I don't think I want to let you go yet." I looked at the man's fingers on my waist. Dispassionately, I sliced them off. I cut myself in the process, but I healed almost instantly. The man screamed and dropped me. I stepped away from him, towards the other man. "Hey, big boy. That's a nice knife. Wanna play, see who's got the better blade?"

"You're nuts!" He dropped the knife and ran off. I picked up the blade with the same uncaring way I had cut the one man's fingers off. Turning it around in my hands, I threw it at the fleeing man, hitting him square in the back. He let out a gut wrenching shriek and fell to the ground. I pulled out the man's mobile, and dialed 911.

"Nine-one-one, please state your emergency." The woman on the line had a pleasant voice, with a thick accent I decided to mimic to mask my voice.

"Yes, dispatcher? My boyfriend got real drunk at Drifter's Paradise Bar and cut up some guys who were giving me a hard time. Can you send an ambulance to the alley behind the Bar for them? I'm not sticking around because I'm scared my boyfriend might come back. When he get this drunk, he hurts me." I made myself sound terrified and weak, and the dispatcher ate up the huge lie.

"Okay, honey. We'll send someone out there right away. You give me your name and we'll check up on you later. For now, get to a place you feel safe." Thinking quickly, I came up with a fake name and address.

"My name is Scarlett O'Donnell and I live at 42 Wallace Avenue, Apartment C. But my boyfriend has a key, so I'm going to my aunt's house. You can reach me on this phone." I hung up and tossed the phone on the ground. "Good luck finding me," I muttered. God, people will believe anything if you act scared.

I took off my blood-covered shirt and zipped my jacket up to my neck. I opened the door to the bar and walked in like nothing had happened. I looked at the No Mutants sign, then ignored it. The prejudice was irrational, and since most people didn't see my mutation, I didn't bother with it. I sat down at the bar next to some guy with funky hair that curled in from the sides towards the top of his head. His scent reached my nose, and I looked at him again. I didn't think I knew him, but he smelled familiar.

"What'll it be?" The bartender broke into my thoughts. I blinked slowly, willing for him not to ask for my I.D. I didn't have one; I have no idea how old I'm supposed to be, and I looked about fifteen. "And if it's anything alcoholic, I'll need to see some I.D." Damn.

"I'll have a water. No ice." I sighed and sat back. I cocked an eyebrow at the familiar stranger. "What are you drinking?" He slid his eyes over to me.

"Beer." He looked back to it. No conversation coming from him. When my water came, I sniffed it gently, then decided against drinking it. I really didn't like this bar, or this town, but I was a bit stranded. If this guy was heading my direction, I'd try to hitch a ride. "You got a name, kid?"

"Yeah. Amanda." Maybe he would talk. "What's yours?" I surreptitiously took a deeper, more analyzing sniff. He smelled like a mutant, and there was a trace of a metal that seemed so _familiar_. There was no other word I could think of but familiar, but that wasnt right, but I knew I knew that smell.

"Come on kid, drop the fake name. We both know that's not what you go by." He didn't look at me, but somehow I felt that he could see right through the words that fooled the world.

"Fine. You can call me Lynx. What's your name?" He took a sip of his beer. I heard the sirens in the distance, the ambulance finally getting here. Without showing any outward signs of the panic I was feeling, I said, "Never mind. I gotta go. It's been nice talking to you." I stood up and strolled to the front door.

Taking a deep breath, I kept myself from bolting. I could and _would _make it out the door without flipping out. A stool slid out behind me, but I didn't look back. I had to focus on getting out of this place. I made it to the sidewalk before my emotions fully hit me; I had probably killed both of those men. I crouched down on the sidewalk, holding my knees. Whenever I got like that, unfeeling to the pain I'd inflicted, I got swamped by the remorse later; I hated these claws and the things they made me feel.

I heard and felt a motorcycle roll onto the pavement in front of me. "Need a ride, Lynx?" It was the guy from the bar. I rubbed my eyes and looked up at him.

"Yeah, where you headed?" I didn't really care, but it'd be good to know. I really did need to get out of town quick.

"New York. So you want a ride or not?" He revved the bike. Hey, I was headed to NY, too. I had heard there was a place there where they helped mutants with nowhere else to go, and I guess that was me, now. I jumped onto the back and he tried to hand me a helmet.

"Screw the helmet, guy. Let's just go." He shrugged and took off. We were going way past the speed limit, but I didn't care. It was exhilarating to feel the wind in my hair, but I had to resist the urge to let my claws come out. They had a bad habit of doing that whenever I felt a strong emotion.

We drove out of the rinky-dink town and hit the highway. Here, he really sped up. There was no one but us on the road, and the night washed over my hectic feelings like a cooling salve. For that ride, everything felt _right_. My hair was whipped back by the wind, out of my face, letting the scents of everything else come easier. I felt more electrically alive then I ever had before. Finally, as the sky started to lighten, an tinting on the horizon imperceptible to normal human eyes, the guy asked if I was ready to pull over. We had rolled up to a gas station, where I assumed we were going to fill up the tank.

"Well, that depends. Are you kicking me off? Because if you're not, and you're fine to keep going, so am I." I was actually kind of tired because I hadn't slept in about three days. I was good for about two and a half before I went downhill. But I sure as hell wasn't going to fall asleep with an absolute stranger around.

"We need gas," he said. Wow, was this guy tight-lipped. He barely said anything at all, let alone anything reassuring or nice. Maybe that's why I trusted him a little more than regular people; he wasn't trying to get me to relax or anything, but I was anyway.

He jumped off the bike, taking the keys with him. I scooted forward so I was on the seat more completely, and turned to face the guy. I watched him pump the gas silently. The quiet was getting to me, and I felt like I was going to fall asleep. It's amazing how alive one can feel one moment, then dead tired the next. I fought against the heavy feeling in my body, and tried to stay awake, but it was useless, and I was out before he was done.

~x X-Men x~

I woke up in an okay bed; it was clean, but none too soft. I quickly took in my surroundings. There was some cheap wallpaper thrown up on the wall, a table with a lamp on it, two chairs, and a dresser with a small TV on it. Off to my right was a door, which I assumed was the door to the bathroom. The guy was in one of the chairs, watching the parking lot from a crack in the curtains. When I woke up, he looked over at me.

"Hey." He was still keeping his talking to a minimum.

"Hey." I could play that game, too. Alright, I was bluffing; I was too curious for my own good. "You know, you never told me your real name." He looked back out the window.

"Logan." I smirked. I would use his line from earlier.

"Come on guy, Drop the fake name. We both know that's not what you go by." I thought I saw his jaw twitch, either from holding back a smile or from annoyance, I had no clue which.

"Wolverine." I liked it. Wolverine. It fit him. He was a loner.

"Well, Wolverine, I am taking a shower." I decided to call him that every chance I got. I jumped out of the bed and walked to the bathroom. I washed off, then put my pants and bra back on. I didn't have another shirt with me, and my jacket would stick to me and be uncomfortable. I stuck my head out of the door. "Do you have an extra shirt I can borrow?"

"Where's yours? On second thought, I don't wanna know." He pulled out a flannel shirt almost identical to the one he was wearing and tossed it to me. I slid my arms into the sleeves and stepped out of the bathroom, buttoning the shirt as I moved.

"So, where to now? What's in New York for you?" I sat down on the other chair, which faced the one Wolverine was in.

"Home. What's in New York for _you_?" He stopped looking out the window and faced me completely. I sighed and sat back.

"I'm not exactly sure. I heard about this place, but for all I know, it could be a complete crock. I mean, it _sounds _too good to be true." I was afraid that he would laugh at me if he found out that I thought there was someplace for me. "Well, we gonna hit the road?" He nodded and we headed for the door.

The receptionist waved to us on our way out. "Have a nice trip, Mr. Richards. I hope you and your daughter make it to Boston in time for that reenactment!" She smiled at him, and he nodded at her. When we got to the bike, I grinned at him.

"Daughter? Reenactment? That sounds like an interesting cover story." I hopped onto the front seat and gripped the handlebars. He looked at me incredulously.

"What do you think you're doing?" He reached into his pocket for the keys, but I held up my hand and showed him that I had them. "When'd you get those?"

"Oh come on. I want to drive. It's been a long time since I've been on a good, fast motorcycle." He went to grab the keys, but I jumped off the seat and out of his reach. "It's not like I'm going to steal it. If I wanted to, I could have been out of here twenty minutes ago."

"Fine. But you wear the helmet." I put a hand over my heart and fell back dramatically.

"Oh no! Not _the helmet_! Whatever shall I do?" I grabbed it and put it on. "Hop on, '_Mr. Richards_'."

"You're a lot more energetic than you were last night." I giggled. "What?" I shook my head.

"That just sounds really dirty. Especially when you're saying it to a girl who looks young enough to be your daughter." I felt Wolverine shake his head. "Yes, I'm immature. I know." I felt a rumble that could have been a chuckle or a growl. This guy needed to work on his communication skills; I had no idea if he thought I was funny or a nuisance.

"If you're not going to start the bike, I'm going to drive," he said. "We're not too far away. We could make it to the mansion by this afternoon if you'd get a move on." I put the key in the ignition and revved the bike.

"Mansion?" Backing out of the parking space, I angled toward the driveway.

"Yeah. Home. It's in Westchester County." He was back to his terse self. I sighed and headed for the highway.

"Westchester County? That's where I'm headed, too. Do you know the area well?" He nodded. I would have turned back to talk to him better, but we hit traffic. It was early, but it was like every car in the state was on that stretch of road. "Do you know where Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters is?"

"Yeah… That's where I live." Now it was my turn to look at him incredulously. "I'm a professor there."

"Then what were you doing in that town last night?" He rubbed his neck.

"Looking for you. Charles sent me to talk to you about coming to the school, but I never got a chance to." I raised an eyebrow, even though he couldn't see me.

"There was plenty of opportunity. At the bar, on the ride here. Hell, you could have talked to me this morning." I shook my head, but kept my eyes on traffic. I resisted the urge to hit him over the head.

"I got… distracted. But since you were heading there anyway, I didn't really need to talk to you about it."

"Yeah, but you didn't know I was heading there until just now." Under my breath I muttered, "Dumbass." He squeezed me around the waist.

"I heard that." I grinned cheekily at him.

"I know."

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><p><strong>So, what do you think? R&amp;R please! =3 <strong>

**(Oh, anybody reading this after reading any of my other fan fics, what do you think of my page break thingy (~x X-Men x~)? Tell me if I should keep it or change it. (Yes, I know it's trivial, but what are you going to do?)**

**I FIXED THE ONE TYPO IN THERE, ALYSON YOU GRAMMAR NAZI.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everybody! Thanks to my good friend Nola for reviewing! I know reading isn't your thang, but thanks for trying! The attempt means more to me than praise from a stranger would! =3 (Not that everyone else shouldn't review, k?) Oh, and as a note, this is chapter starts about a month after the last one, kk?**

**Just as a reminder, I don't own X-Men, Marvel Comics, or any characters except Lynx (or any other characters I make up at a later date).**

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><p>"It's extraordinary. Your bones seem to have completely absorbed the Adamantium, Lynx. Its presence doesn't seem to be interfering with your healing factor at all. Your body recognizes it as your bone structure, and actually seems to have partially replaced the outer layer of your bones with the metal, and with no ill effects." Professor Xavier was running more tests on me. "Your body has actually taken hold of the implants, your claws, destroyed the mechanical release that seems to have been in place at one time, and is controlling them completely with your muscle."<p>

"That's really interesting, Professor." I leaned forward and put my elbows on my knees. "Do we have any idea about how old I am yet?" Xavier shook his head.

"I'm sorry. Your body gives no clues of your age. However, I think that if you let me examine your mind, we may find a range of possible years." I nodded.

"Okay what do you want me to do?" The professor wheeled himself to the head of the bed.

"Lie down, with your head here. I'm going to try to give you access to your earliest memories. I'll ask you questions, and I'll need you to answer them fully and truthfully. Do you think you can do that?" I followed his instructions. "Empty your mind so that I may open it. Some find taking deep breaths help."

"Okay, I think I'm ready, Professor." I felt oddly at peace. My breathing and heart rate slowed. My consciousness seemed to drift a little.

"I want you to think as far back as you can go. How old are you in this memory?" I sort of focused, without being focused at all, if that makes sense. I saw me, but it didn't feel like me. We looked just the same, but there was something different.

"I don't know. I look the same. But that me doesn't have claws."

"Where are you?" My eyes were open, but I wasn't seeing the ceiling of the room, or the Professor. I was now looking through the eyes of the other me. There were trees everywhere. Pines, firs, maples, buckeyes, birches, hickories, chestnuts, and dogwoods were surrounding me. I could see the ocean where I was, but I was hidden.

I spoke, but strange sounds came out of my mouth instead of words I recognized. They meant the same thing, but were in a language I didn't know I knew.

"English please, Lynx." Professor Xavier didn't know that language either, apparently.

"Forest. By the Great Water. It's my new home." I spotted something on the horizon. "Something is coming."

"What is coming, Lynx?" the Professor sounded calm, but I was starting to panic.

"The pale ones from across the Great Water." I shivered. "They brought Death to my people, many seasons before, and I had to leave or be killed. I traveled along the coast to this forest, hoping to be finally safe, but they're here, too."

"Is anyone with you?" I looked around.

"No. I am all that's left. My people were all killed long ago." My face was wet with tears. "They took my home, these pale monsters from over the Great Water. I'm alone, and even the Great Mother cannot help me."

"Lynx, listen to me very carefully. That was a long time ago. You are safe now, but if you become upset, you will break my connection with your past self. Tell me quickly, can you see a name on the ship?"

"No. They are far away. But I have to run. I have to run before they can find me!" I twisted and turned my body, but the professor's hands stayed firmly on the sides of my face.

"Lynx, you must not run. You must stay calm!"

"They'll find me!" I screamed and heaved myself out of his hands. I put my head on my knees and cried. When I was done, I looked up at Professor Xavier. "I'm s-sorry, p-Professor. I t-tried to st-stay, but I c-c-c-couldn't. Sh-should we tr-try aga-ga-gain?"

"I think that is enough for today. You may return to your classes." I nodded and stood up. I was trembling, not from exertion, but from fear. That was the single most terrifying thing I had ever experienced.

"Thank you, Professor." I walked out of the room that reminded me of a highly advanced and expensive hospital. Standing just outside the sliding door was Wolverine. I smiled bravely at him and waved. "Hey, _Professor_ _Logan_. What's up?"

"I heard you scream, and I wanted to make sure you were okay." He looked worried, and didn't even seem to notice the sarcasm I had put into his title. "What was going on?"

"You didn't think I could take care of myself? I'm hurt." I put my hand over my heart. Wolverine rolled his eyes.

"Well, since you're well enough to be sarcastic, you're probably fine. So what was going on?" We started walking back to the ground level where all the classes were. I really wanted to touch him, but didn't want to mess up the friendship we'd built since I came here, or give anyone a reason to think there was more going on.

"The Professor and I were accessing my earliest memories." I looked at my watch. "Shouldn't you be teaching a class right now? Did you end your class early to come check on me?" I raised an eyebrow at him in mock severity.

"Why'd you scream?" He didn't answer my question about his class.

"Stop avoiding my question. You know, some people could see you ending your class early as an indication that there's something more than friendship going on here." I nudged him. "And we wouldn't want that, now would we?" He stopped walking and held me by my shoulders.

"_You _stop avoiding _my _questions, Lynx. What the hell happened while you were with Charles?" He looked deep into my eyes, and I could see that he was really, truly worried about me, maybe more than a teacher should be with a student. I pulled myself out of his grip and stomped up the stairs.

"Nothing to worry about. We reached my memories, and they scared the crap out of me. I'm just too much of a chicken to face my own past, now just leave me alone!" He followed me as I stormed past the classroom level and onto the dorm level. He grabbed me by the arm again, and didn't let me go this time. He tried to look me in the eyes, but I turned my head.

"Being afraid of something so terrible your mind blocked it is not being chicken." He touched the side of my face gently, and I reluctantly looked at him. In his eyes I saw something more than just concern; I saw a deep understanding of what I was feeling. "Even being willing to try and touch those memories was an incredibly brave thing to do. You are so brave it's not even funny, Lynx. Just keep that in mind."

He pulled me to his chest and hugged me lightly. I exhaled, then inhaled his scent. It was pleasant, and already felt like home. Wolverine was the only one at the school I felt comfortable with, other than the Professor. He was warm and earthy and told me the truth, even if it wasn't pleasant. Wolverine's arms went from my shoulders to my waist, making our hips touch; my heart sped up, and I felt his do the same. I pulled away half-heartedly.

"Wolverine, you know we can't be doing this. Some of the kids are already starting to think something is going on between us. We can't prove them right." I sighed and turned away from him. Before he could say anything, the bell rang, and I hurried off to my next class. Thank God it wasn't his; I don't think I could have been in the same room as him without something going horribly wrong right now.

**~x X-Men x~**

"John, move. I need to get to my next class." I tried to push him out of the way without using any more strength than someone my size should be able to, but he wouldn't budge. I was afraid I would hurt him if I used any more. I sighed and looked up at him. "Please move." He snapped his Zippo shut and smirked at me.

"Oh, I'll move, but first answer some questions." I squeezed the bridge of my nose.

"What do you want to know?" He snapped the Zippo open again.

"Do you even have any powers? I haven't seen you do anything, and I haven't heard what your power is, so I can't make any assumption except that you have none." I locked my jaw and took a deep breath. Flipping out would not be good for me, I reasoned. I liked the school, and if I sliced up this kid, I'd probably have to leave.

"I have powers, I assure you. I just don't like to flaunt them." I tried to get out of the door, but he moved into my way again.

"Why don't you use your real name?" I closed my eyes, trying to keep my anger in check. Smiling with one side of my mouth, I pushed a little harder on his chest.

"As soon as I find it out, I'll be happy to let you know what it is." He moved out of my way, but followed me, still playing with that damn Zippo of his.

"One last thing: Why do you call a certain someone Wolverine instead of Professor Logan?" I kept walking.

"We made a promise not to lie about our names," I said, making my way to the lawn.

"Ooh, a promise, eh? Any other secret 'promises' with Logan?" I stopped and turned around. I put a finger on his chest and stopped him.

"Don't go there, John." He swiped my hand away and smirked at me again.

"Why not? Your boyfriend gonna come after me?" I walked up to a random kid.

"Hey, kid. Would mind giving testimony that I've warned John to stop, should the question ever arise?" He nodded, looking like he was astounded I could speak. I had been really quiet since getting to the school, so I could see why he would think I couldn't. Looking over my shoulder at John I said, "No, if you don't stop, I'm gonna come after you."

"What, with your alleged powers? I'm still not convinced you have any." He laughed. I took another deep breath, but it didn't help as much as last time.

"I have powers, John. I've told you that already." He moved around to in front of me.

"You know what I think? I think you're just some human Logan took a shine to on his business trip. I think he said you were the girl Xavier was looking for, just so he could have you anytime he wanted." He was standing close enough to me that only I could hear him, but that didn't make what he said any better. I was shaking from the sheer force I had to use to keep my claws in, and they were already starting to slide out against my will.

"John, if you know what's good for you, you will get away from me as quick as you can, and never bother me again." He laughed.

"You gonna vibrate me to death or something?" Even as he was making fun of me, he took a step back. "That power has got to make certain '_after-school activities' _with Logan loads of fun." I clenched my jaw so tightly I heard it pop. It was like that smug-ass punk wanted me to hurt him.

A low, resonant sound that shouldn't have come from human vocal chords wrenched itself from my lips as my muscles took over and extended my claws. The air around me crackled, and my long, blonde hair stood out from my head. Slowly, I raised my head to look at John with wide, furious eyes. My canine teeth were elongating; I could feel them push against my bottom lip. Everything was sharper and brighter than normal. I could smell the fear on every paralyzed person on the lawn.

John looked like he was going to take off. If he did, then he was dead. If anyone moved, then I would jump them, and there was nothing I could do about it. I tried taking deep breaths, but that only made it worse. The panic rolling of everyone was almost enough to make me go wild. I started breathing shallowly.

"Listen to me," I said in a voice that sounded darker and rougher than mine. "No one move. I just need to calm down, but if anyone tries to run, I'm not going to be able to stop myself. Got it?" No one moved, so I assumed they understood. Behind me, the gravel crunched under Professor Xavier's wheelchair; the only reason he was safe was because in this state, I had enough awareness of everyone around me to know that he could take me out if need be. "Professor," I said hoarsely, "Help me."

I felt him in my mind. He probed the memories of what John had been saying, then helped me back to a stable emotion. I was no longer angry at John's words; I felt pity at what they said about him. He was jealous of any genuine emotion felt by others, because he only felt bitterness and anger. He would exploit those feelings until everyone was as bitter and angry as him.

I was able to retract my claws and drop my arms to my sides. Looking at the terror I had caused, I felt myself about to be overcome by guilt. I almost broke down right there, but managed to hold myself together for long enough to flee at top speed to my room. I locked myself in and curled up on my bed. There was too much emotion weighing on my chest for me to be able to cry.

There was a knock on my door. I knew just who it was. I could smell home through the door. He was so worried that I decided against making him wait, because he might take it down, or at the very least take out my lock. I padded over to the door and unlocked it, letting in Wolverine, the indirect cause of my suffering.

Before he was even in the room, he wrapped his arms around me tightly, tucking me under his chin. He kicked the door shut without looking back, and sat us down on the bed. He rubbed my back soothingly, and some of the terrible pressure on my chest was lifted. I broke down; I became a quivering, blubbering mass, covering Wolverine's shirt in tears. He just kept rubbing my back and murmuring that it would be alright.

"You're lying!" I hit his chest with my balled fists, albeit not very hard. "It's never going to be alright until I can control my emotions!" I pressed my face into his neck and gulped in the soothing scent of him. When I stopped crying, I looked at him, but not in the eyes. "S-sorry. I'm sorry I just sort of emotionally exploded on you."

Wolverine used his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears on my cheeks. The gesture was so tender and intimate most people wouldn't have expected it from the gruff, standoffish Wolverine. But I knew he was actually sensitive under the stony exterior. He went to put his hand back on my waist, but I held it close to my face, examining where his claws came out. There were no signs of them now, but I knew what deadly blades could appear as suddenly as my own. I turned over his hand and traced the lines on it.

"You have beautiful hands, Wolverine. They're honest." I kissed the centre of his palm, not taking my eyes off his face. He looked at me through half-lidded eyes, dusky with… something. Damn it, I could never tell what he was thinking. He took my hand in his and kissed the palm like I had done his.

"_You _are beautiful, Lynx. You're powerful, and kind, and loyal." He kissed the tips of each of my fingers. "I think… I think what I feel for you would have adverse effects… were said feelings to be exposed." Whenever he started talking like this, I knew he was feeling something strong.

"Wolverine…" I got a little choked up. Today had been stressful, and I was wiped. "Don't leave tonight, Wolverine." Screw what everyone thought, screw what they said, I just wanted Wolverine.

"Are you sure you want me to stay?" He looked uncertain, like he wasn't sure it was really what I wanted. Before he could come up with a reason why him staying was a bad idea, I heard a voice in my head.

_Lynx and Logan, please see me in my study_. We didn't need to be told who the message was from. There was only one man with such powerful and controlled powers here. Wolverine grabbed my hand and we raced down to Charles' study. We skidded to a stop in front of the door, then quickly dropped hands, like Xavier wouldn't know what had sort of been admitted if we didn't touch in front of him.

"Come in, you two," Charles said from the other side of the door. "We need to talk about what happened on the lawn earlier, yes, but also about your past." He motioned to two chairs in front of his desk.

"How can we talk about our past if no one knows what they are?" Wolverine and I sat on the chairs. They were surprisingly comfortable for wood. "And I'm sorry for what happened on the lawn. You heard was John was saying. I got angry." I wasn't trying to justify my actions, just explain them.

"I know why you did it, Lynx. You were completely justified in your anger. However, we must ensure this never occurs again, or escalates into harming another student." He looked at me seriously. "This school was created to protect the young, not put them in the path of danger. You will need extra assistance to control them, so I am altering your class schedule."

"Altering my schedule how, exactly?" I did not like how this was going.

"I think we should keep you isolated from the other students until you can control yourself. We will have a computer set up in your room so that you can still participate in class, without actually coming into contact with the other students." I tilted my head and thought. That was a really good idea. People pissed me off on a daily basis, and if I couldn't actually get to them, I could work on my anger without having to take it out on someone. "That was my thinking, too."

"What about what you were saying about her past?" I had forgotten about that completely. Professor Xavier held up a hand.

"I'll get to that. But I'd also like to advance Lynx's training. Since you two are the only ones we know of with your certain skills, I think it would be wise for Logan to train you, Lynx." I almost smiled, but I thought that might be a bit inappropriate to be excited about extra training. Charles didn't say anything, but I knew he heard what I thought.

"Okay. So, we were going to talk about my past, right?" I had almost stood up and left, but remembered that at the last second.

"Yes. I think both of you had been experimented on by the same facility. However, I've not been able to access any of Logan's memories, so his actual age is still undeterminable. Lynx, through research, I have verified that you could be anywhere from 400 to 1,050 years old." I froze. That was really old. "You could, in fact, be older, since you appeared the same in the memory we accessed."

"Um… I don't know what to say to that…" I didn't move at all. I just kept thinking, _God, I'm ancient_. I didn't feel old; I felt like a fifteen year old girl. Life was exciting and new. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that I was at least 400 years old.

"Take some time to think everything over. I'll have someone come up to your room after supper to help you set up your new computer." He wheeled himself from behind his desk to close the door after us. I couldn't wait to get up to my room, alone with Wolverine. "Oh, and I would appreciate if you would both sleep in your own rooms tonight."

My face felt like it was on fire. Without another word, I walked stiffly to my room, leaving Wolverine and the Professor in my wake.

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><p><strong>A chapter, yes. Good, not necessarily. Review, and I promise to get more up sooner. Oh, and I'm currently working on a picture of Lynx! I'll have that up as soon as I finish it. Hopefully, with school almost out, I'll have more time to write, but no promises.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, everybody, I took a break from my busy schedule to talk to you! (Yes, that was sarcasm.) To my new favorite reviewer, CrisTocK, no, that doesn't make Wolverine 5000 years old, Lynx just has a healing factor that's way more extreme, which is why she appears really young when she's actually pretty frickin old, waaaaay older than Wolverine. That's all I'm going to say on that, though. Well, not a lot to say, so…**

**Oh, and I only own Lynx and any characters I may make up later on. X-Men is the sole property of Marvel comics and the writers (I think. Someone correct me if I'm wrong.)**

**Okay, I sent this to my friend to read (multiple times), but she never did. Depending on what kind of feedback I get, I may rewrite the chapter. So, review if you want me to keep going this way or try something else.  
><strong>

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><p>Yawn, attempt to take notes, try not to look like I'm really asleep, repeat. My new class schedule. When it was time for lunch, I didn't go. I felt like being a hermit. When I didn't show up, Wolverine knocked on my door. I looked at the door, then just stayed at my desk. He hit the door a little harder.<p>

"Open up, Lynx," he called quietly through the door. I had a private room, but it wasn't a private hallway, and other kids might be hanging out in their rooms. "Let me in. I know you're in there and you haven't left all day." I cursed under my breath.

"Damn super-senses. The ability to smell if I've left or not is not hot." I stomped over to the door and opened it enough to stick my head out. "What is it, Wolverine? I'm sort of avoiding human contact today. See, if I don't get pissed off, I can't go nuts."

"You can't just isolate yourself from everyone." He opened the door all the way and pulled on my arm a little. "If you don't confront your anger, you won't be able to deal with it, and you'll blow up over something little. I know what I'm talking about, so listen to me."

"The Professor told me to stay in my room as much as possible." I tried to shut the door, but Wolverine stuck the toe of his boot in the crack.

"Well, it's not possible for you to stay in your room, because I say so." He opened the door the rest of the way and grabbed me by the wrist.

"Where are we going?" I reluctantly let him pull me into the hallway. I could have stopped us if I really had to, but Wolverine was just as strong as me, and I would have had to literally dig my heels into the floor. I doubted Professor Xavier would have appreciated having to replace the nice woodwork under the carpets.

"You are going down to lunch, and you are going to interact with kids your own age, and _you are going to like it_." I yanked my hand out of his, and jumped backwards to my door.

"You know, technically, I can't interact with kids my own age." He sighed and started marching me back down the stairs.

"You know what I mean, Lynx." I rolled my eyes.

"If I have to go downstairs, can I at least change?" I crossed my arms and turned back to my room. "Appearances are very important to teenagers." Wolverine snorted through his nose and leaned against a wall.

"But technically, you're not a teenager."

I hissed at him and shut myself in my room to get dressed. I heard him chuckle through the door, but ignored it. I wiggled into a pair of jeans and a tank top, then threw a plaid-pattern shirt over it. Checking myself in the mirror, I braided my hair behind my back really quick. Hey, it was the shirt that Wolverine had let me borrow on the ride here. I wondered if he would want it back.

"Okay, I'm ready, if I still have to go down…" I looked around for Wolverine. Maybe he decided to leave me alone for now. But wait, what was that noise? I turned around and looked into the corner of the wall where it met the ceiling. He had himself wedged in the space, trying not to move. "Found you, I win."

"Eh, took you longer than it should have, so I win." He jumped down and shrugged his shoulders. I struck a pose.

"Well, I'm fricking sexy, so I win." He didn't say anything, just looked. "What, no witty comeback?" He shook his head slowly, his arms crossed over his chest, a half-smile on his face.

"Nope." I half-smiled back at him and hit him lightly on the arm.

"Come on, thought you were going to make me go downstairs for lunch." He ushered me down the steps in front of him. "So, when do our extra lessons start?" I turned around and looked over my shoulder at him.

"After last class. Danger room." He was cutting down on the talking again. He did that whenever someone might be listening, such as on the way to the dining hall. It kind of pissed me off, but I made myself smile.

"Sounds great. See you then, _Professor_." Whenever he cut down on the talking, I started calling him professor (laden with sarcasm, of course) because it pissed him off. It was a viscous cycle. He knew how to press my buttons, and I knew his, so we just kept going round and round with it. He growled at me, way in the back of his throat, but I just smiled, growled louder, and walked off.

~x X-Men x~

Everyone stopped talking when I walked into the cafeteria. I got my lunch, then looked around for a place to sit. I glanced frantically at the door, ready to run back to my room, but Wolverine was the teacher on watch duty. He raised one eyebrow, and I chose a table. At the table was Iceman, Rogue, and Pyro. I ignored Pyro and looked at Rogue and Iceman.

"Can I sit with you guys? Wolverine's making me eat lunch today." I spoke quietly, trying to seem unthreatening. After what happened the other day on the lawn, I didn't want to spook anyone. Rogue visibly shook herself and smiled. She was making the effort, and that really meant a lot to me.

"Sure. Have a seat." I pulled a chair out and sat down. The food looked great; the school experimented with different styles of cooking, and that week they were doing Asian cuisine. I love sushi, and that's what was being served. I picked up my chopsticks and looked at the other three warily. They were using forks.

"Why aren't you guys using chopsticks?" I clicked the ends of mine together. "They're not that hard to use…" I shrugged as they just looked at me blankly. "Hell, I even can't remember where I learned to use them," I muttered to myself.

"Why can't you remember where you learned to use them?" I closed my eyes as Pyro talked for the first time since I walked in. If he said something stupid, I would have to leave. He went to open his mouth again, but I held my hand up.

"Do you really want to say something dumb, John? Because I really don't feel like blowing up today." I gave him my serious eyes and he shut up. I smiled inwardly; sometimes, being intimidating rocked. Rogue shifted in her seat and turned to me, obviously uncomfortable with this conversation.

"So, I haven't seen you in class today, Lynx." I nodded.

"Yeah, Professor Xavier had it set up so I could watch the classes from my room so I don't go nuts. I'm not supposed to be down for lunch, but Wolverine made me." I shrugged. "After what happened the other day, the Professor realized that I could be a threat even when I'm not trying to be." I shot a glance at Wolverine. "But some people are pigheadedly, blatantly going against the Professor."

Wolverine scowled at me, but I just smiled crookedly. Rogue and Iceman looked at me like I had grown a second head, and Pyro was ignoring my presence in an ostentatious way. I looked at him and tilted my head, assessing him. His hands smelled like… Oh my God. I could smell that he'd been… ahem, amusing himself. I felt my face get red, and I looked down at my plate and shoveled all of my food into my mouth. I wanted to get out of there soon.

"Well, I'll see you all later," I said quickly and almost sprinted for the door. Wolverine tried to stop me, but I barreled past him and stopped around the corner to my room. Wolverine was almost right behind me. My face was still on fire, and I was frantically trying to tamp down on that. Wolverine raised his hand like he was going to put it on my arm, then lowered it like he thought better of it.

"What happened at lunch?" I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. I tried to play the whole thing off.

"Nothing? Why do you think something happened?" My bluff would have been better if I hadn't sounded like a squeaky toy in a blender. He raised his eyebrow.

"Because you ran out of there like there was a fire." I closed my eyes and let out a breath. My blush was coming back.

"There are certain things that I really didn't need to know about Pyro. But I could smell it." I shook my head. "_He didn't wash his hands! _There are certain activities that you need to wash your hands after, _and he didn't_." I shivered. "I'm really glad he wasn't making the food today." Wolverine thought I had lost my mind.

"Okay, I'm confused. Mostly because you're talking like a psycho. What exactly was Pyro doing that was so disgusting?" I felt my face go red again.

"Well, before lunch, he was… ahem… keeping himself _busy_. And it's not so much what he was doing, it was he didn't wash his hands! That's just nasty! And he's eating!"

I almost felt sick. I looked at my arm. There was a needle in it. I looked at Wolverine. It wasn't really him; as I watched him, his skin turned indigo and scaly, and his hair turned red. The woman I had thought was Wolverine smiled and pulled the needle from my skin.

"Tell Charles that Magneto says hello, and that he should guard his treasures more carefully." And then I passed out.

~x X-Men x~

I opened my eyes. Nausea rolled over me. I tried to keep my lunch down, but it bubbled back up. I sat up and held my hands out.

"Bucket please." I leaned over the edge of the bed and filled the waste basket someone handed me with vomit. "Whoever came up with the idea of raw fish wrapped in rice and seaweed was evil. It tastes way worse the second time." I groaned and rolled back over onto my back. "That was some nasty shit in that needle. Oops, sorry, Professor."

I opened my eyes timidly. I was overly sensitive to begin with, but now my nerves felt raw. I winced as the light hit my eyes. _Can we dim those, Professor? They're kinda killing my eyes._ I heard wheels moving to the wall and the room got darker.

"It's amazing to see you awake so soon, Lynx." The Professor's tone was as neutral as always. I never knew what he was thinking, but he knew what I was thinking. I sat up and rested my elbows on my knees. "There are few people, mutant or otherwise, who could have survived that toxin."

"What exactly was it? I feel like I've been hit by a semi. Not even that; semis aren't that bad." I rubbed my calves with my palms. They felt like the blood wasn't pumping like it should.

"That was the venom of _Oxyuranus microlepidotus_, commonly known as the Inland Taipan. It's the most venomous land snake in the world. If the needle we found near you was the needle used, and assuming it was completely filled, there was enough venom to kill a dozen bull African Elephants." He placed a hand on my foot closest to him. "So you have a reason to feel like you've been hit by a truck." I rubbed my face with my hand.

I rubbed my hands over my face. _Sore _was a new feeling for me, but that's what I was experiencing. All over my body, my muscles felt like they were being stretched way past their limit. Even my face hurt. I took a deep breath; the Professor's scent was different. He smelled… Guilty.

"What are you hiding, Professor?" I looked at him warily. "What aren't you telling me?" I pulled my foot out of his grasp and stared at him hard. "What's wrong? Why aren't you talking?" Professor X took a deep breath like he was steeling himself for what he was going to say.

"You weren't the only one to encounter Mystique yesterday. Logan was the one to follow you from the cafeteria, but along the way Mystique used the same toxin on him as on you, albeit an extremely lower dose." He paused. "He still hasn't woken up."

I launched myself out of the bed before he had even finished his sentence. I loped out of the door and down the hallway, frantically searching the air for Wolverine's scent. Wolverine couldn't die. I had to find him. What I was going to do when I was there, I had no idea, but I would be there, God dammit. I found the smell of home and followed it to an identical room as the one I had been in.

"Wolverine!" I pushed open the door and practically flew across the room to him. He looked dead; his skin was pale and clammy, and his chest was barely moving with his breath. I fell to my knees, strange words that I instinctively knew were a prayer fell from my mouth. I was begging the gods to save him. "Please, Anguta, leave him here with me. I need him." These last words I whispered in English.

"Hmm, that's interesting." Wolverine pulled me from the crouch I'd fallen into. "You need me?" He drew me onto the bed with him. "That's funny, because I need you, too." I sent a quick prayer to the gods for their speedy answer, then snuggled into Wolverine's chest. I yawned, a great, jaw-cracking yawn.

"I'm tired. Do you mind if I stay here with you?" I looked at him through my lashes. He chuckled.

"I wouldn't want anything else." He wrapped an arm around me and kissed the top of my head. I tucked his free hand between mine and under my head. My eyes almost closed, I breathed three little words. I don't know if he heard me, but I knew they were out there, and I meant them with all of my heart.

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><p><strong>A little shorter than my first two chapters, I know. I may go in a different direction with this, but I really like this way right now. I'll try<strong>** to update more often, but no promises.**

**I love you all! (Just kidding.)**

**Oh, and I drew Lynx! She's dressed like a hippy, yeah. She was feeling groovy. I might even work that into the next chapter. You'll probably want the link now, right? http:/life-is-colorful (dot) deviant art (dot) com/d3iv0a6**

**Review, k? Muffins for everyone who does. (They won't be real muffins. I'll draw you one. BUT A MUFFIN IT SHALL BE.)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hallo! I'm assuming that from the lack of reviews, people liked the last chapter. I know I've made Wolverine super sappy, and I'm sorry! Blame the horrible guys I know for making me want to make a perfectly epic guy. Anyway, I hope a few of you actually looked at my drawing of Lynx. I was trying a new style, and FORGOT THE FRICKING EYEBROWS. I'm so ashamed. Not really. I don't care. Okay, I'm done complaining. Probably. Well, I'm done for now, anyway.**

**Okay, so somewhere down in there, there is mention of a few things to do with Indian society. I made it up. Do not take me as a source of Native American history. I can barely remember algebraic formulas, let alone the religion of an entire culture.**

**Thanks to CrisTocK, Kimi2109, PrincessAnime8, and pokemonnarutofreako for adding me to your favorite/alert lists! You guys rock.**

**Oh, and I only own Lynx and any characters I may make up later on. X-Men is the sole property of Marvel comics and the writers.**

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><p>The wind whipped my hair away from my face. I pulled my blanket closer around my shoulders. I wasn't cold, but I knew a normal person would be, so I tried to fool myself by acting normal. Right now, everything reminding me that I was different just pissed me off. I just wanted to be a regular girl, and if I couldn't be, I wanted to go back to the way things were, knowing nothing about myself, just knowing what I felt at the moment and going from there.<p>

In the middle of the night, I had woken up, and I remembered everything. I remembered all of my past, the good and the bad. I went back to my room, grabbed the quilt off my bed, and went onto the roof for some time alone. I cried a little, I will admit, but then I just thought. I thought about who I'd been, and what I'd done. Some of it scared me, the person I had been. It was worse than who I was when that animal instinct takes over. Someone opened the door and stepped onto the roof with me.

"You shouldn't be up yet, Wolverine. You're not completely healed." I didn't turn around. His arms went around my waist. I just stood there. He rested his chin on my shoulder and kissed my neck.

"Are you alright? I woke up and you weren't there." I closed my eyes and leaned into him. He kissed my neck again.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I guess." I turned around in his arms and rested my forehead on his chest. "I don't know what happened, but I remember everything. I guess the poison knocked something loose in my head, and my past is accessible now." I put my hands on his hips and blinked heavily against tears that threatened to overflow again.

"What's wrong?" He tilted my face to his. "Don't cry, hon. It'll be okay. It's the past, whatever it is." He kissed my forehead and rubbed my back.

"No, it's who I was. I've been doing horrible things for more than a thousand years. I think back, and there's just so much blood. For years and years, all I did was kill. I told myself it was because people would kill me if I didn't get them first, but…" I started shaking. "It was a lie; I wanted to do it, and now the guilt is killing me." He pulled me closer to him.

"Do you need to talk about it? I'm here if you do, or if you just want some company." I sat us down on the raised ledge that ran around the building. I didn't want to look him in the eyes. I was ashamed my actions, but I had to get them off my chest. I tried to pull my hands from his, but he kept hold of them, resting them on our touching knees.

"When I was born, my people named me Girl of the Pale Hair. As I got older, they realized that a traditional life was not going to work for me. I was wild. I wanted to go hunting when I should have been staying back with the other women; I wanted to run and be free, not settle down and marry. One day, I ran away. I just went to the forest and started running.

"I knew someone would notice I was missing eventually, but I hoped to be far from their reach before they did. When I finally stopped running, I heard a noise that broke a part of me. My people were screaming. That sound will haunt me to the ends of my days. I ran as fast as I could, faster than I had ran in my life. When I got there, though, it was too late.

"Invaders had come and started hacking away with what I now know were swords. At the time, I had no idea what they were and it scared me. I snuck into the worship tent, and took a lynx pelt off the wall. It still had its claws, and I threw it over me, giving me weapons and a bit of protection at the same time. I opened the tent, and killed them all.

When it all was over, I saw one of my people still struggling for life. It was our shaman. He called me over weakly, and told me that from my actions that day, the gods had revealed my true name to me. He did a renaming ceremony, and with his last breath, he told me my name. Lynx." I sighed. "That was the beginning of my long and painful history.

"I burned the village, making it the funeral pyre for my people. It was too late in the winter to bury them. Then, I decided to exact my revenge. I waited for more of them to come. How long I waited I have no idea; it could have been years. But more came. The ventured into the woods for supplies, and I picked them off, one by one.

"Then one day, I realized that killing these settlers was pointless. They weren't the ones to kill my people, the ones who did had been long dead. I moved farther south on the continent, hoping to escape myself. The people there welcomed me, more graciously then I had ever been treated, even in my own village. As I learned their dialect, I realized that they worshiped me as a war goddess. I decided that I didn't want that and it was time for me to move on.

"That was the last peaceful time I knew for a long while. I ventured further south, but the peoples there were warring, and did not take to strangers well. They tried to run me farther inland, but I circled around and stayed on the coast. Every now and then, one of the young warriors would try to find me, to take me as a prize, the wild woman who had evaded their fathers. None of them returned. I stayed there, until one day, there was boats on the horizon.

"They were different from the ones that had killed my people, but I panicked all the same. I had come south to be rid of the invading menace. I stayed in my territory, hoping to avoid them. The local peoples tried to warn them against building further into the woods, but they didn't listen. They tried to destroy the home I had made myself, but I didn't let them.

"I went into a rage, and wiped them off the map. When I did, I realized that the man who had left for supplies from their homeland would want retribution, and I would be the first suspect, if they believed the warnings of the locals. I carved the name of a neighboring tribe into a tree to throw suspicion away from me, then I left. I wandered for a long time, aimlessly traveling this vast continent I didn't even know had existed. It was somewhere in this rootless existence that I realized that I was still the same as I had been when the first invasion had happened.

"At the time, I had thought it punishment for the senseless murdering I had done. Now, I know that it was my healing factor being triggered. But back then, I was still the Native, observing the world with quiet thanks to the gods for life. And everything was fine, a little lonely, but fine none the less, for a long, long, time. The modern world sprung up, seemingly from nowhere, and I watched it all. Life was peaceful once again, with all the invaders more busy with building a life than with fighting me.

"Then, somewhere around 1910, I rejoined the world. I was tired of being alone. I was tired of having to constantly move as the world grew. I had learned the language fairly quickly, just adjusting the dialect from when the settlements were new and easily observable. I joined a little community of provincial farmers. They were kind and fair, something I had not expected from them. I moved from farm to farm, helping with the chores to earn my keep, and life was better.

"But after a while, they realized that as they aged and died, I stayed the same. It was time for me to leave. I set out on the one road through the town and left the people I had come to think of as my family. It was sad, but necessary. I started staying in towns for less and less time. Being caught terrified me, so I just kept moving, laying down no ties with the people.

"Avoiding lasting relationship worked for a time, until I met Ethan Greggs. He was like no one else. To describe him in one word, the closest I would be able to get is 'understanding'. There was a deep wisdom about him, that even in my many years I had not attained. There was an instant connection, which I tried to fight. But there was no escaping the feelings I had tried to repress for all those years.

"We fell in love, and I moved into his small house in coastal North Carolina. It was one of my favorite places. I had been there, hundreds years before. I didn't think anyone would remember the old legends of me, and I was right. They still remembered what I had done, but they thought it was just some supernatural fairytale of the superstitious Natives. For a short time I was just another face in the crowd, and that was my happiest time. Ethan and I were going to be married, but then tragedy struck.

"Ethan had been walking home from work when he saw some guy walk into a convenience store with a gun. He ran in, tackled the guy, and tried to pull the gun out of his hand. Well, he didn't get it; the guy shot him in the stomach and made a run for it." I realized that I had started rocking back and forth as I was talking, and tears were running down my face. "When I was called in to the morgue to identify him, a man came to talk to me. His name was William Stryker, and he wanted to invite me to become part of a project he was running.

"When he came to me, I was still in shock, and I just wanted to make the bastard who did this pay. I agreed to be part of the project." I slid my claws out. "That's where I got these. Anesthesia doesn't work on me, just like it doesn't work on you. But they had to implant my claws," I said quietly, running my fingertip over the light scars that ran up my forearm. "They had to keep me awake, and keep the flesh pulled back and cauterized because I was healing too fast for them to put them in. Up until the point when the injected the Adamantium into my skeleton a few hours later, that was the most painful thing I had ever experienced."

"When they told you what was going to happen, why did you stay in the program?" He took my hands, and I retracted my claws. He traced the scars I had just shown him. They were barely noticeable, but it took an tremendous amount of damage to actually scar me so their existence in itself was testament to what I went through. "Why didn't you just leave?" I shook my head.

"I'd like to tell you that it was because I'm a person of my words, but that'd be a lie. I did it because I wanted to find the person who had murdered Ethan, and make them suffer to the extent of my power. When I love, I love with my entire being. When I hate, I hate in the same way. And I really, truly hated them." My hands started shaking at the thought of them. "But my story isn't over, impatient Wolverine.

"I went through with the entire procedure. When I was finished, but still in the injection tank, I heard them talking. They wanted to wipe my memories and use me to hunt down the escaped project before me. I went into a murderous rage. My mind sort of left my body and floated for a while. I thought about everyone I missed, and everyone who could be missing the people I had killed.

"When I woke up, I was in the middle of nowhere. The only thing I could remember was that I was different, and people had hurt me. That was 19 years ago. I've been running for 19 years. I forgot my purpose, but now I remember it. And I… I can have my revenge for Ethan." I wiped the nearly dried tears off my cheeks.

"Well, you do what you have to do, but make sure it's what you want. I'll be there for you, no matter what you choose." He kissed my forehead again. I jumped up and threw my arms up.

"But I'm not sure it's what I want! I mean, the anger is still there, but the hurt is gone." I put my hand on my heart. "I remember Ethan, and the memories are fond, but I don't think I love him anymore. I'm not the same girl who fell for him." I sat down. "And that makes me sad. He was a good man, and deserved more than me."

"No one deserves better than you, because there's no such thing." He stood up and wrapped his arms around my waist. "And no man could handle more." I scoffed and put my hands over his. "I know that you're way better than I deserve." I turned around and looked at him like he was crazy.

"What do you mean? You're a terrific guy. I think you are, anyway." I stood on the tips of my toes and kissed the end of his nose. I lowered myself until I was eye-level with his lips. A noise of pure lust escaped my lips, and I slowly turned away. "I think we should maybe go back to our own rooms for a while."

"Why?" He looked a little disappointed. "I want you as bad as I know you want me." I took a deep breath and took a deliberate step away. I had to get a little space between us or I'd give in.

"You know what Charles said."

"To hell with Charles. We're both consenting adults. You're over a thousand. I think that makes you legal." He put his hand on my arm. It was something he'd done to me a million times before, but now, with the thought that he wanted me out there, the light touch sent electricity through me.

"Your logic is infallible. But we are still in a _school_." I started that as a chant in my head. _We are in a school, we are in a school, we are in a school._

"Technically, we're _on _a school." I rolled my eyes and tried not to take that as an acceptable reason.

"Haha, smartass. You know what I meant, kid." He raised an eyebrow at me. "What? Comparatively, you're a kid. And it makes me less attracted to you to think of you as a kid."

"Really?" He said it with the _e _drawn out, more like "_Reeeeeeally_?"

"No. But that's what I'm telling myself so I don't jump your bones." I clapped a hand over my mouth. "I didn't say that. And you didn't hear that." He smiled mischievously at me.

"Oh, but I did." I saw the purely lustful look in his eyes, and it seared away the little resistance I had left. Wordlessly, I took his hand and led him back to my room.

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><p><strong>Thanks to my friend for convincing me that this was good as a chapter by itself (if you wanted more, complain and I'll pass it on), and all of my readers. You know, the 20 of you that actually read chapter 3. So far, no muffins. Clearly, I shall have to resort to threats. IF I DON'T GET AT LEAST 5 MORE REVIEWS, I WON'T POST THE NEXT CHAPTER. <strong>

**There. Now we have an ultimatum. Let's see the response I get.**

**Until next time, MB**


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